The Labrat

Absolom_ The fifth point of the compass

2011-12-09T17:14:00.000-06:00

One of the things I enjoyed in the past was finding my own pigment and grinding my own paint. I have started doing it again. Hand grinding is time consuming, but relaxing (and in a perverse way, fun) I am working on a beautiful golden ocher that is so rich it radiates light and a sienna that rivals others from Europe and from historical mines. Both found about seven miles from where I live. I'm excited, and can't wait to go on another pigment hunt. I have a gray/green one I have had my eye on for quite awhile... it's waited a million years for me, it probably will have to wait a few more months. :-D

Absolom is a drawing-painting I'm working on at the present time. It is reaching a crossroad, so I thought I would scan and post it before I make that fateful "wrong" turn. Only time will tell what it's potential is.

Café Britt Commercial

2011-12-07T14:33:00.001-06:00

Best viewed on You Tube.
The Boys do it again. The product is real, the "commercial" is a film class project.
(The house is my youngest son's) Some of you might remember when his old house was lost in the flood.

I'm a proud mamma!

2011-09-17T17:49:00.000-05:00

Check out my son's and friend's video. Youngest son Jon is the zombie. I think it's brilliant and I'm not being biased. Not one bit. :-) Brilliant I say!

An instructional video designed to prepare the "average Joe" to survive a zombie apocalypse...in STYLE! These are all "hometown" boys. Jeremy Fiest is in a film making class. This was made for an assignment.

Jon says: This is the long anticipated Zombie Clip that my friends and I made.
John Johnson provided his voice talents, Bobby Gamage was the zombie killer, Jason K recorded the audio, and Jeremy Fiest took credit for it. :p

Spring fun in Kansas

2011-05-26T00:58:00.002-05:00

My daughter-in-law was in this today. She was in the back of a store, either in a cooler or between big refrigeration units. She was texting my daughter who had me on the phone, we three rode it out together as the back side of this system roared through Kansas City. Her text of "All Clear" was most welcome to say the least.

Love spring, except for the weeds and the extreme weather.

Every year the clouds seem to have a "style" for that season, this is an example of this year's.
Top picture was taken at the first part of June, two lower ones taken out the back door two nights ago.

June 21: Forty three Tornadoes on the ground in Tornado Alley last night, more expected tonight. Good start for the summer don't you think? 1317 so far this year in USA and counting.

Bottled

2011-04-11T16:33:00.001-05:00

The bees were robbed in the night by a big brown bear. At

dawn they went in search of someone to vent their bottled fury upon.

I am not a toy!

2011-03-28T00:23:00.004-05:00

Boogie George's wife has gone missing and he
has gone to search for her. I hope everything
will be ok, I'm a bit worried!

Evil Sir Reginal Farquar had a pig burning

night at Andrew Finnie's blog and he made

the poor toys watch. This little bear managed

to escape and ran here for sanctuary. I

think it is traumatized, hopefully it will

recover. Go see the carnage if you dare!!

Andrew Finnie:Artist and Illustrator

Cultivate

2011-03-19T11:02:00.000-05:00

Today it's sounding like spring, thunder is rumbling and robins are singing. I saw this tiny little guy heading for my garden. Two more of them were dragging a packet of Fairy's Breath seed. I hope this means I'll have a nice garden this year.

2010-12-27T02:53:00.001-06:00

Jose Cuervo Christmas Cookies

FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO LIKE TO BAKE…

Jose Cuervo Christmas Cookies

1 cup of water
1 tsp baking soda
1 cup of sugar
1 tsp salt
1 cup of brown sugar
4 large eggs
1 cup nuts
2 cups of dried fruit
1 bottle Jose Cuervo Tequila

Sample the Cuervo to check quality.
Take a large bowl, check the Cuervo again,
To be sure it is of the highest quality,
Pour one level cup and drink.

Turn on the electric mixer.
Beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl.

Add one peastoon of sugar. Beat again.
At this point it's best to make sure the Cuervo is still ok,
Try another cup just in case.

Turn off the mixerer thingy.

Break 2 leggs and add to the bowl
And chuck in the cup of dried fruit.
Pick the frigging fruit off the floor.

Mix on the turner.

If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaters
Just pry it loose with a drewscriver.
Sample the Cuervo to check for tonsisticity.

Next, sift two cups of salt, or something.

Who geeves a sheet. Check the Jose Cuervo.
Now shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.

Add one table.

Add a spoon of sugar, or somefink.
Whatever you can find.

Greash the oven.

Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to fall over.

Don't forget to beat off the turner.

Finally, throw the bowl through the window,
Finish the Cose Juervo and make sure
To put the stove in the wishdasher.

Cherry Mistmas!

Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirating we'll go!

2010-11-08T02:13:00.000-06:00

My son the evil one...scurvy dog!

Learning GIMP, day two: Brushes

2010-06-25T19:56:00.005-05:00

A gust of wind blows the leaves:

They are quiet.
~Basho

A Garden of Ghosts

IF: Paisley

2010-06-25T19:44:00.002-05:00

I did have a good idea for paisley(at least I thought so). Visualize a wall with a newspaper tacked to it. Above a headshot photo of Harry Potter the headline reads: House Elf does what Dark Lord has been unable to do!

In front of the wall stands Kreature with smoking gun. Kreature is wearing a hideously loud paisley toga, he looks totally disgusted and appalled.

The text reads:
Yesterday Harry Potter freed Kreature with a gift of clothes.

But then, I had second thoughts. Paisley always gives me a migraine. :)))

2010-06-11T16:19:00.000-05:00

The old pond,

A straw sandal sunk to the bottom;

Sleet falling

...Buson

Liars club, the truth will out!

2010-04-23T23:26:00.003-05:00

Photo by my friend Jean of a fairy chair I made
for her. The cat is really a tiny pillow, a vintage
replica, hand sewn by me. Pumpkins grown in
my tiny garden...well maybe not! :)))

Andrew, I will quit sitting around and letting time
pass while I stare out the window.

1. I robbed a bank vault when I was a kid,
and got away with it. #1 is a WHOPPER:
Not the vault!

My Grandfather lived in a very small town,
consisting of one main business street.
Years of visiting and exploring gave me
intimate knowledge of the ins and outs
of all the old business buildings. A little
like Harry Potter, I solemnly swear, I
was often up to no good. I knew where
the hidden ways into back rooms,
upper floors and basements were. The
old bank was no exception. I could and
and did get into the upper floor. It was
hot and very dusty but contained some
interesting items. I remember there
was an old cracked leather feinting couch
and a box of antique photos that I liked to
spend time studying. There were names
written on the back of many of them so
naturally I made up stories about the
personages pictured.
Then came the spring when I discovered
a new bank had been built. The old bank
was due to be demolished. I had to save
my people! I asked an older cousin to go
to the bank with me to help me rescue
the precious box. I showed him the
secret way in. There he found an antique
wooden child's wagon. He carried it out,
then went back for the heavy box of
photos, down a set of stairs, down a
dark creaking hallway and then down
another set of stairs, we made our
getaway! Pulling the wagon back to
my grandfathers, we were brazen,
hardened criminals, no fear of getting
caught.
Cousin hid the photos in my parents car
and put the wagon in his parents car.
When we heard the bank had had it's date
with destruction, he took the child's
wagon to his mother. They decided to
donate it to a local museum. I showed
my mother the box of antique photos.
Seeing the names on the backs, she
had the idea of trying to find some of
the family locally. A few phone calls,
mom hit paydirt, a man who said
he would call his sister to come take a
look. The day arrived, the elderly lady
sat on the couch and I brought her the box.
As she named the people in the pictures
she burst into tears. They were photos
which had been missing for years,
the only ones the family had. She was
terribly grateful that I had been a
bank robber and had saved her family
pictures from the wrecking ball.
I received a Christmas card every
year from her until she passed away.

2. My second cousin cut my third finger off
my right hand with scissors when I was five.
#2 is a WHOPPER: Not the whole finger,
just the top of it.
Miss smarty pants(me) knew cousin wasn't

supposed to play with Aunt Faye's scissors.

My intentions were to take them from her

and play with them myself.

She taught me the valuable lesson of never

presenting a frontal attack. Always approach

from the side! The end of the finger was

reattached in the emergency room and

eventually I recovered full use of it.

I still bear the scar, it makes for a good

cautionary tale for the grand kids.

I've never liked that cousin.

3. Gypsies kidnapped me and stole
my first home.
#3 is a WHOPPER:
They didn't get me, just the small
trailer my parents were using until
the big farm house was remodeled
enough to live in.
Yes, Gypsies!!
My mother always told me when I
was being particularly awful, they
would be back for me. After reading
Ransom for Red Chief, I was ready
for them!

4. My Dad and I found a complete
skeleton in a prospector's shack in
the desert. He said if I ever told my
mother he wouldn't take me with him
to check out stuff anymore.
#4. Drum roll... TRUE!
My dad was a rockhound ,we were
tourists long before there was such a
thing. We traveled great distances
every summer in our Jeep station
wagon. Forests, mining camps, lost
caverns, all of that and more was
par for the course when I was a kid.
When we were going through a desert
my dad saw a shack south of us and
he just had to investigate. He and I
were off to see what we could see.
There behind the door to a second
room I found "him" under a deteriorated
quilt. Poor old dear had left this veil of
tears while in bed. Nothing left of him but
his bones which had become white with
desert summer's blinding heat and
winter's biting cold.
I never told my mother until my dad
himself had passed.
Dad and I did have our secrets. :)

5. I won my first Purple ribbon at the
State Fair for scratch baking when I
was eight. I entered my white cake
with strawberry icing.
#5. WHOPPER: It was a blue ribbon and
I won it in the local fair. 4H!

6. The King of Sweden visited a town
14 miles from here, I got to shake his
hand. So I have had the privilege of
shaking the hand of a past President
and a King.

#6. WHOPPER: I did shake President

Eisenhower's hand, if I told you all of

that story you would swear I was

telling you another whopper. The

King of Sweden did visit and I saw him

but of course, never shook his hand.

7. I recently learned one of my Barbies
I had since I was a kid would be worth
21 thousand dollars if it was still in the
box. As it is, it is only worth about
seven thousand dollars.

Yep, it's a WHOPPER!
Mostly an outright lie!
If I still had my one and only Barbie
and she was still in the box, she would
only be worth about $700. (She was
a Champagne bubble cut Barbie. )

Well, it was fun! If I had it to do all
over again, I would tell you about our
diamond mine in Arkansas and what
we found there... and about
laying on the train tracks and letting
the train roll over me(scary!)
Oh well, maybe another time.

Liars club

2010-04-03T18:08:00.002-05:00

I have been given this award by Andrew of
Andrew Finnie: Andrew Finnie, Artist and Illustrator

Thank you Andrew... I think. Nah, I'm tickled as not
everyone is a bold face....uhm, creative writer.

1. I robbed a bank vault when I was a kid,
and got away with it.
2. My second cousin cut my third finger off
my right hand with scissors when I was five.
3. Gypsies kidnapped me and stole
my first home.
4. My Dad and I found a complete
skeleton in a prospector's shack in
the desert. He said if I ever told my
mother he wouldn't take me with him
to check out stuff anymore.
5. I won my first Purple ribbon at the
State Fair for scratch baking when I
was eight. I entered my white cake
with strawberry icing.
6. The King of Sweden visited a town
14 miles from here, I got to shake his
hand. So I have had the privilege of
shaking the hand of a past President
and a King.
7. I recently learned one of my Barbies
I had since I was a kid would be worth
21 thousand dollars if it was still in the
box. As it is, it is only worth about
seven thousand dollars.

There you have it. Which are the Whoppers and

which one is the truth? Can you tell?

I will with fear and trepidation present these
Blogger friends with this ~~burden~~ special award.

Guyana-Gyal Guyana
She is well equipped to handle this Award.

Val Walsh ValGal Art
Because she will forgive me, I think!

Donn Homo Escapeons
He says he's quit blogging, maybe this
will tempt him to come back.

Albina Out of Hands
Revenge for yummy post!

Simon Bits and Bobs
He's on vacation and I'll be
able to hide before he finds out.

Andrea Coloring Outside the Lines
So you will visit her and see her
paintings she has for sale.

Merlin Princesse Photos Reflexions Creations
She has a great sense of humor.

Thanks again Andrew, it was ~~embarrassing~~ fun!
It was fun.

Here are the rules:
1. Thank the person who gave this to you.
2. Copy the logo and place it on your blog.
3. Link to the person who nominated you.
4. Tell up to six outrageous lies about yourself, and at least one outrageous truth.
5. Nominate seven "Creative Writers" who might have fun coming up with outrageous lies.
6. Post links to the seven blogs you nominate.
7. Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know you nominated them.

The End

2010-03-09T20:22:00.005-06:00

Paddy's Gold
The pot might be bigger than we originally thought.
Even if you were to find this very spot I think you
would have to be very brave to try to take the gold
from this rabid Leprechaun. He just might bite your
ankles!

Haiti 2010

2010-02-15T00:27:00.003-06:00

Adrift

A snake in the mud.

2010-02-10T23:17:00.004-06:00

Once upon a time ... there was a garden, a tree and a snake... This story doesn't have a happy ending.

More Playing while it Snows and Snows

2010-02-04T14:07:00.004-06:00

I'm having Ideas about Root People. I pulled out some big weeds behind the shed and found they had the most interesting roots, gnarly, grasping and hairy. I'd like to make people out of them, and I might give it a go when they are good and dried out. (Yes, guilty... I did save them!) Until then, my sister and I had fun with ink. Here is my first attempt. We laughed a lot, I cooked supper while she made her's... she came up with some perfectly charming monsters. She had so much fun that I've been able to tempt her to come back this coming weekend for a session of smearing around some paint. (She's a chemist by day) It seems to be the proper thing to do when it's cold, wet and gray day after day. Remember when we were kids, the sound of blunt scissors whacking hunks out of construction paper, the smell of paste and crayons, our tempera paints leaving splotches on our paint shirts? Everyone having a good time just playing, no thought where it was going to end up any more than "on the fridge". February, a good month to return to play for awhile I think.

Clumsy

2010-01-28T17:11:00.004-06:00

George

Who played with a Dangerous Toy, and
suffered a Catastrophe of considerable
Dimensions

When George's Grandmamma was told
That George had been as good as gold,
She promised in the afternoon
To buy him an Immense BALLOON.
And so she did; but when it came,
It got into the candle flame,
And being of a dangerous sort
Exploded with a loud report!
The lights went out! The windows broke!
The room was filled with reeking smoke.
And in the darkness shrieks and yells
Were mingled with electric bells,
And falling masonry and groans,
And crunching, as of broken bones,
And dreadful shrieks, when, worst of all,
The house itself began to fall!
It tottered, shuddering to and fro,
Then crashed into the street below-
Which happened to be Savile Row.

When help arrived, among the dead
Were Cousin Mary, Little Fred,
The Footmen (both of them), the Groom,
The man that cleaned the Billiard-Room,
The Chaplain, and the Still-Room Maid.
And I am dreadfully afraid
That Monsieur Champignon, the Chef,
Will now be permanently deaf-
And both his aides are much the same;
While George, who was in part to blame,
Received, you will regret to hear,
A nasty lump behind the ear.

Moral:
The moral is that little boys
Should not be given dangerous toys.

~Hilaire Belloc

Alma

2010-01-23T11:09:00.003-06:00

A story about a curious girl and a doll shop.
Well made animation, charming but creepy.
Has she found the perfect doll, or has it
found her?

Wilderness underfoot

2010-01-21T11:31:00.003-06:00

Excerpt from Vegetation:

It is a love in darkness wrought obedient
to the unseen sun, longer than memory,
a thought deeper than the graves of time.

~Kathleen Raine

Green
by D H Lawrence

The dawn was apple green,

The sky was green wine held up in the sun,

The moon was a golden petal between.

She opened her eyes, and green

They shone, clear like flowers undone

For the first time,
now for the first time seen.

Your kids can change

2010-01-11T15:41:00.012-06:00

At the speed of light.........

A few days ago I got a call from my beautiful daughter.
She said,"Are you ready to have an
"I'll take full credit, I'm so proud, Mommy moment""?
I thought, "What!?!", but said with hesitation , "Sure..."
Amanda: I just sent you an email with some drawings
I've just done.
Me: What!?! (She always said she hates to draw!)

Click, click, click(email opened)

Me: Oh my god!
Amanda:* Giggle* So what do you think?
Me: Who are you and what have you done with my
daughter?
********************************************

OK, you probably get the idea...

Amanda has always made me so proud as her
mother. She is a great wife, mother and
daughter. She is a kick-ass ICU nurse. As she
says, "You don't want to see me because that
means you are very, very sick. But then you
do want to see me because I'll do everything
in my power to keep you alive until shift
change."
But drawing? She has never shown the
slightest interest. None, zippo, nada.
So suddenly she starts drawing...
...picked up a pencil and went to town.
I'm stunned! And for some odd reason
soooooo very happy!

I just wanted to share with you my
"Proud mommy, I take full credit"
moment.

Amanda's Zombies

A few days have gone by and she is still at it!
I'm thrilled!

And now may I introduce you to the artist:

My daughter Amanda and her hubby
Fido...I mean Nick. They are dressed
up in their Halloween costumes as
characters from the movie 'Fido'.

Happy New Year!

2010-01-01T20:33:00.005-06:00

I hosted my first New Year's Eve party in years last night. It was the first one I have ever hosted on my own, so I was a bit nervous, and frankly I think I may have gone over the top as there was no one to say "Stop!". I always wanted to have a masked ball like the old ones of Mosart's Vennia or like the Carnival of Venice, so I set the theme as 'Come as a character that Terry Gilliam might have dreamed of'. What fun!!

I rented beautiful Lakewood Lodge; I had made the reservation back in April but as there was a wedding reception held there on the 27th, I really had to scramble to get the ballroom decorated in time. Two darling friends helped me, but even still it was a major job. Everything was done in gold, silver and red as much as possible. Unable to find that many tablecloths in red, I used white ones with red and golden candles nestled in greenery sprinkled with silver glitter. We used white candles in the chandeliers simply because I thought it would look better, more romantic. Lakewood has a mirror ball so with the lights low and all the candles lit, it looked truly spectacular! Bubbles, baubbles and sparkles everywhere!

Last night, a Blue Moon... the moon that only occurs once every nineteen years on New Years Eve. It's not really blue, but full, against a sky of the deepest, clearest midnight blue. The man in the moon looked like it came from a vintage story book with the brightest stars dotted artfully about, all reflected in the still lake below the lodge. It was bitter cold but the lights from the ballroom glowed warmly on the closest trees of the surrounding woods, making everything seem cozy and inviting. There was even a hint of woodsmoke from the roaring fireplace in the air. Perfect!

I think everyone I had invited came and brought friends. The fantastical creatures that arrived at my party seemed not of this world. I felt as if a portal had opened up in the ether and beings from unseen worlds had come pouring in. Wings, horns, wands and crowns...glimmer, gossamer, silk, satin, sequins, velvet and soft leathers. Heroes and villains, beauties and crones, serfs and kings, dancing denizens of beaches and forests... all and more.
All had come for a Midnight Dream.

The catered food was spectacular as was the music provided by a group of friends. Many of my friends are multi-talented and those with musical gifts sat in with the band and added their special sounds to the delight of all. I don't think it was just the magic of champagne that made everyone glow with excitement and happiness. We were all saying goodbye to 2009 with style and hello to 2010 with the sparkling eyes of children opening birthday presents. Ah, what is in this big box, what will it be? All I know it is just for me! Hehe!

I dressed as the Snow Queen. Vintage lace, white, heavily beaded satin, fur trimmed cape, all assembled with the tiniest hand sewn stiches. I borrowed my great aunt Lavinnia's diamond tiara (Yes, it was real, presented to her by her adored husband Theodore on their tenth wedding anniversary... unfortunately he was killed in a tragic hunting accident two years later. She never remarried but remained alone in their Victorian manor where I, coincidentally spent many an enchanted hour amonst her vast collections of pictures and books.)
I felt the part, even though my heels were killing me. :)

At Midnight we held our glasses high and began the countdown, some were misty-eyed, some were grinning with anticipation of New Year kisses, some were looking a bit serious and thoughtful. As the count of seven was reached, the huge double doors of the ballroom crashed open and there stood Zorro! Posed, left hand on hip, right hand grasping a rapier pointing down at the floor. The room suddenly became quiet, every eye fixed on this stunning man in black. He grinned wickedly and began marching towards me, flicking his rapier as he came. When he stood in front of me he bowed deeply, one leg crossed over the other. (Men can be beautiful too can't they?) Quick as a cat he stood upright, snapped his sword at my face and lifted the diamond tiara from my hair in one smooth movement. High in the air it sailed and as it came down, he caught it in his gloved hand. "My lady." he laughed, turned and ran from the room.
Stunned but for a second, I rushed after him but unfortunately he was better on his heels than I on mine and I (and the crowd behind me) reached the open door to the outside just in time to see him rear up on his black horse. We could only watch in shock as he galloped off and melted into the dark woods, leaving behind a "Z" cut deeply into a snowdrift by the door. Great aunt Lavinnia (who had came as a hag complete with a wax 'poisoned' apple) passed out on the spot!

Of course the police were called, but I don't think they took it seriously, believing their time would better spent catching drunken drivers than chasing a man on a horse in the cold woods. It had clouded up since the party had started and snow was falling heavily. Hoof prints were not to be found. They took statements, wished us a Happy New Year and left us to get on with our party (after cautioning us to drink responsibly and have designated drivers). Police!
Well what could one do? We did as advised.

I began to write this to you today just to let you know the first thing that happened to me in 2010 was that I was robbed by Zorro! It is kind of funny; horrible, but funny. (but not as horrible as my hangover:) I got halfway through the telling, when there was a bold knock at my door. When I answered it, there was no one to be seen, but there was a small gold foil wrapped package left on the step. Pinned to the silver ribbon, a mask! A black velvet half mask!

Opening it I found the tiara and this note:
My Lady,
Forgive me my theft of your treasure! A prank, a practical joke, nothing more,
to give you and your guests an unforgettable New Year's Eve!
Find enclosed the tiara, unharmed!
Forever your faithful servant,
"Z"

I'm back in Great Aunt Lavinnia's will!

My wish for you

2009-12-23T20:40:00.002-06:00

Oh no you don't!!!

2009-12-11T10:55:00.004-06:00

Behind my back yard there is a bit of fencing and a row
of mixed trees. They are under the power lines and two
years ago after a particularly bad ice storm, the power
company did much trimming. The crews were back last
week to mark trees for removal. All of those trees had
green plastic bands on them to indicate they were all
to be cut down and removed. It has snowed here and
we have below zero temps even during the days. I
thought, "Poor squirrels, they will come and cut down
your nest trees just when you need them the most."
Two days ago I was surprised to see a squirrel up
and about in the freezing weather and wondered what
he was up to. Well, he was busy removing the
green bands off his trees, just his trees. He
carried off the bands and I think he stuffed them
in his nest. A couple of hours ago the crew to
cut the trees arrived in their heavy weather
coveralls and hard hats. They kept staring up
at the trees in the corner and the huge Cotton-
wood tree. They seemed quite puzzled. They left
and soon others came to look too. Now they are
out there cutting. I didn't 'rat out' the squirrel and
so far, his trees are still standing.

This is what passes for excitement when we're
snowed in.

On the squirrel front:
One complete tree w/ nest remains.
One trunk and large branch of Cottonwood tree remains
Small set of trees in corner of fence remains (heavily trimmed)
The rest of the trees are down and stacked into firewood.
Tree crew was not back today for whatever reason.

Tuesday morning. The squirrel nest is gone! He's packed up
and moved in the night. Two hours later the cutting crew
arrived, down came the squirrel trees. I wonder who
tipped off the squirrel?

Thursday: Squirrel has returned, his nest is now in
a tree away from the power lines. He is climbing
the power pole and using the trunk line like his
private highway once more. All ends well.

Above and Below

2009-12-07T16:35:00.004-06:00

A whimsy to combat the "Grays"

I'm actually rather excited today,
after much time with the creative
blahs, I have and Idea. The perfect
Idea. It will allow me to play
without restrictions and it is
something I believe will be easily
accomplished as I can work on
The Idea in fits and starts.
The best part is it is something
I think will be fun. I have been
low on fun (and energy) the
last few months. It should get
me perking around again.

Paper, marker, old mop

2009-11-24T21:19:00.002-06:00

Heads I made for Halloween.

I knew there was a reason....

2009-03-29T15:08:00.001-05:00

for my cat going crazy in the night!!!

2009-03-27T15:00:00.003-05:00

I continue walking my dark side on a leash. How far can this go? I have no idea at this time.
I am finding out interesting facts on my path to mayhem. (Sounds like a town name doesn't it? Mayhem Mississippi, home to swamp-light ghosts and catfish hunters.)
55 words, does it work? Click on the can if it is too small to read here.

Some notes........

Loki is one of the major deities in the Norse pantheon. He is a son of the giant Farbauti ("cruel striker") and the giantess Laufey. He is regarded as one of Aesir, but is on occasion their enemy. He is connected with fire and magic, and can assume many different shapes (horse, falcon, fly). He is crafty and malicious, but is also heroic: in that aspect he can be compared with the trickster from North American myths. The ambivalent god grows progressively more unpleasant, and is directly responsible for the death of Balder, the god of light.

Cream of Tartar is a natural, pure ingredient left behind after grape juice has fermented to wine.
Potassium bitartrate crystallises in wine casks during the fermentation of grape juice, and can precipitate out of wine in bottle.
This crude form (known as beeswing) is collected and purified to produce the white, odorless, acidic powder used for many culinary and other household purposes. It is also a major ingredient in baking powder.
Cream of Tartar has no aroma and has an acidic flavor.

Playing Chicken

2009-03-22T17:48:00.004-05:00

I've been working on a small collection of Ten Tiny Tales of Retribution. They are shamefully fun to write, and hopefully will improve my writing skills. They are each 55 words. It is really interesting to see how one changed word can affect how a story is perceived. Let me know what you think!

Makin' Bacon

2009-02-12T19:24:00.007-06:00

We're doing a 55 word writing project, fast, easy and most of all, fun. Click on the pic for an easier read. Hope you all have a Happy Valentine's Day.

2009-01-04T02:48:00.002-06:00

I can explain this picture.

This is a picture of the Werewolf of London's tailor. He was at his Senior prom bringing a refreshing beverage to his date Candy, who had just been crowned Prom Queen, when he got the emergency call on his Nokia 1650 cell phone. Alberto, the werewolf's real name, had been drinking Pina Coladas (made with light rum, coconut cream and pineapples) at Trader Vic's when a full moon rose into the evening sky. Alberto proceeded to have a howling good time, but once the moon set, he realized he needed immediate repair work done on his elegant evening apparel. That's when he called his trusted tailor Bob. Bob and his date Candy left the prom in a hurry and found Alberto slumped against the side of an office building. Bob set to work and in no time he had made the much needed repairs with his trusty portable Singer sewing machine. Bob, Candy and Alberto planned to go to Denny's for breakfast, but Bob's POS Bumblebee ‘77 Chevy Camaro wouldn't start, so they did the only thing they could do. They hijacked the UPS man as he was leaving a package off at Fowler's Office Supply, telling him he would be unharmed as long as he delivered them to Denny's and kept his mouth shut. Fred, the UPS driver, didn't have a problem with that because Candy was very large and charming below the neck and also he wouldn't mind a coffee. They were fast becoming friends when the accident happened. The Singer suddenly took a liking to Fred's pants leg. In the act of trying to kick the machine off his leg, Fred lost control of his delivery vehicle,ran off the road, into a construction site, and ended halfway up an embankment, his van impaled by a chain link fence. Fred called the Singer every name in the book and used the Nokia to call the cops. Alberto took this picture of Bob and the machine that took a bitching and kept on stitching. Bob was arrested soon after the photo was taken.

They still haven't come up with the money to bail poor Bob out of jail and the Camaro has been impounded. Alberto was last seen walking with the Queen.

Woops!

2008-11-19T15:52:00.003-06:00

I clicked the wrong
button and lost all
of my friends links.

I can not believe
I did that! I couldn't
get them back!
I feel like ...

Screaming!!!!!!!!!

Some days I feel like I just
should have stayed in bed.

A little present for you.

2008-10-18T14:03:00.013-05:00

I am sometimes fascinated by the silliest things. A few moments ago I was outside and noticed two jets in the sky. They were very close together and traveling about the same speed. I watched them with interest because they had slightly different flight paths but it was obvious that one jet was going to cross the path of the other and I wanted to see if the second jet was in fact flying a bit higher than the other. It was, but so close to the first jet that it actually caused the contrail of the first one to dissipate where it had crossed. Because of their different paths, within a moment of crossing paths, they were a quarter of a mile apart, then a half mile. As I watched the distance grow greater and greater, the thought occurred to me that when these two jets reached their final destinations they would be hundreds of miles apart, and yet for a moment they shared almost the same airspace. I thought how alike this is with what we experience as bloggers, for a moment as we cross paths we are together but very shortly we have moved into our own futures. Maybe in those few moments, something in our own lives were affected.

As you pass through here today, I would like to give you a gift to say "thank you" for all the positive affects you have had on my life in the last couple of years.
Take a moment and click on this link, I guarantee you will find at least three videos that will affect you in a positive way.
Thanks ~LDahl
Here is the link: Talks,Keith Barry: Brain magic

Halloween Monster #1

2008-10-12T18:01:00.009-05:00

This is a Gring of String. He is known for tangling
string, putting knots in necklaces and making
twisted spaghetti out of computer cables.
He feeds off the frustration caused when his
victims try to deal with the tangles. There
is no known protection from this monster.

2008-09-29T20:46:00.000-05:00

Some quick sketches and a drawing

2008-01-28T18:42:00.000-06:00

In the grand scale of things...

2007-11-12T22:23:00.002-06:00

Our time here is brief.
Often we lose sight of the moment.

Season of the Witch

2007-10-31T17:57:00.001-05:00

Happy Halloween!

There was a nip in the air last night so
today it looks like summer has stopped
holding it's breath and expired. Autumn
is in the air at last.

I just had a 'Halloween' moment. I put a
couple of eggs on to soft boil and walked
away to do something else, in a few
minutes I came back to check and see if
they had started boiling yet. There in the
small black pot, floating across the
face of a creamy white egg, like a bat
across the face of the moon, was a
spider with his knees all drawn up .
The water bubbled merrily away.
Boiling up a spider along with my eggs!!!
ACKkkkkkkk!(Halloween lobster anyone?)

Turning The Corner

2007-10-29T10:13:00.002-05:00

It is the prank playing, mask wearing season of illusion.

Trick or treat, sweet or sour?
You won't know
'till the midnight hour.
Games are for children, how absurd!
Fourteen letters, what is the word?

Merlinprincesse has unscrambled
the word and won!

“Do you not know that there comes a midnight hour
when every one has to throw off his mask?

The IF word this week is Grow.

2007-10-20T22:08:00.001-05:00

Excerpt from the DISCOVER magazine
by Gregory Mone
"When Julius Caesar exhaled his last breath, he bequeathed approximately 1022 molecules to the atmosphere around him. Air leaving the lungs is 78 percent nitrogen, 16 percent oxygen, and 4 percent carbon dioxide—depleted in oxygen and enriched more than a hundredfold in carbon dioxide compared with what went in, due to human metabolism. Some of the carbon dioxide probably got trapped and digested by plants in a nearby garden, but the vast majority of the exhaled molecules began to fan out over an ever-widening area. Within a decade, that breath had dispersed completely around Earth, and most of it is still in circulation. Odds are, at least one of the molecules that Caesar (or Mozart or Martin Luther King, for that matter) relinquished when he died is flowing into your lungs as you read these lines."

As you were growing as a child, think of all the great, near great and unknown people who's molecules helped you grow. Think of all the bits and pieces that were woven together to make you who you are, who you will be. Let that thought grow.

2007-10-16T15:04:00.000-05:00

It's fall and it seemed like a good time to do some fall house cleaning. I've removed all the posts from the floods but I saved your very much appreciated comments. This is my second year of blogging and I wanted a fresh start. Frankly I've had enough of looking at flood damage. We are recovering with the help of friends and the kindness of strangers. So....let's get on with it!!!!

2007-04-06T14:15:00.000-05:00

C'EST PAS FACILE D'ÊTRE VERT
(IT AIN'T EASY BEING GREEN.)*
Standing at the cross-roads
Of the Six Ways,
The withered moor! ~Issa

(The Six Ways are the six conditions of sentient life,
hell, that of the hungry ghosts, animals, nature spirits,
human beings, gods.)
*I borrowed this line from merlinprincesse

2007-03-25T14:56:00.000-05:00

I Spy......
(speed drawing, self portrait)

2007-03-14T13:40:00.000-05:00

2007-03-08T12:27:00.000-06:00

Tangeriene Queen and Bubble Snails on the Pond-in-Dreams

Hid,hide, hidden...

2007-03-05T13:42:00.000-06:00

Night deepens,
And sleep in the villages;
Sounds of falling water.
~Buson

2007-02-02T03:37:00.000-06:00

I've had the flu and so has my computer. We've both
been really tired and crashing about. I got a new
power supply for Mr. Computer today, so he's
cool and much happier. I'm starting to feel better
too, so I'm going to try to get emails answered and
something posted here....... sorry I'm so behind
with everyone, I haven't forgotten you!

Here is Toby, he's been asleep in a little Spanish
leather box every since I made him. A few days ago,
by chance, I found someone who is a professional
costume designer and she may be interested in
making him more that just a head. I'm working
hard to tempt her! Toby wants out of the box!

2007-01-10T22:16:00.000-06:00

I don't know anything about painting seascapes(Kansas)
......but I thought it would be fun to try a fast one.
That just goes to show what do I know! Ok, it was a
little bit fun, but mostly, I feel like I would have to do a
couple of hundred of these before I figured out anything
about beaches and water... better luck next time!

Kiwi

2006-12-28T20:35:00.001-06:00

Trees and Dreams

2006-12-27T12:26:00.000-06:00

Speed Trees (another fast painting)
Before the first seed broke open the rosebed of Being,
An inner lark soared through your meadows,
Heading towards Home.
~Bibi Hayati

Christmas Eve In Sarajevo

2006-12-22T14:36:00.000-06:00


This is a video done with Savatage and the Trans-Siberian Orchestra... PEACE on Earth....... goodwill towards all.

2006-12-21T17:14:00.000-06:00

Invitation to the 30 mins painting exercise

Sebastien Gallego from The Jumbled Drawer
Has offered an invitation to join the 30 minutes painting exercise.
This is my first try... I suck, but I tried *giggle*

For a lovely holiday treat visit:
Merisi's Vienna For Beginners
If you have time be sure and look
in the archives as the window
shopping is the best!!!!!!!!

2006-12-06T16:41:00.002-06:00

Pumpkinhead II

2006-12-01T00:25:00.000-06:00

Pumpkin Head goes home...

I love those antique paper pumpkin
heads, but I can't tell if they are
supposed to look scary or scared.
He might be both!
He might be just lost.

2006-11-27T21:15:00.000-06:00

This is what I've played around with today... fun!
Computers that you can paint with...
Best invention, ever!!!!

2006-11-14T23:50:00.000-06:00

No one was certain how fat little Toady Crackbone,
the class clown and shortest kid in school, became
The Most Honorable Theodore Crackbone,
High Judge of Arcturus. The only thing that was
completely clear, was that no one was laughing now.

2006-11-07T17:37:00.001-06:00

When in a difficult and dangerous region,
do not weary of the journey;
should you do so,
turn back half-way.

2006-11-03T22:41:00.000-06:00

Not all the smoke of Autumn
comes from burning leaves.

2006-11-01T18:11:00.000-06:00

Love of monsters runs in the family...
Third grandson out for a walk with the pets.

2006-10-30T12:47:00.000-06:00

2006-10-28T23:05:00.000-05:00

This time of year
demands a monster.
Doesn't it?
Definitely!
Monster provided.
End of story.
Until next time....

2006-09-11T16:44:00.003-05:00

Life is Like....

...sorry Forrest, your mamma told you wrong. Life is not like a box of chocolates. Life is more like a box of pastels. Not a nice, pretty, new box either but a mixed, reused-box of broken, blunted colors. There's lots to choose from in that box, there's some truly gorgeous colors under the grey dust of many yesterdays, but you'll have to be able to see past the grime to find the heart-color of every stick. Some of those sticks are dark to the core, but with them, with that very darkness, you can make the lighter and more joyous colors rise above and shine their brightest.

There will come a time when no matter how much you dig through the box, the right color won't be found ready-made for your use... that is when you will have to take a risk. You'll either have to mix your own or change how you think, and just like which sticks of colors you decide to use, it is your choice how to proceed. You can seek advise from those who have painted before, or you can just strike out on your own and learn from your own experience.

Every day you're given that jumbled box of pigments and a piece of paper to explore; whether it's pristine and new, or a page of work left unfinished and incomplete from a previous day. It is of little consequence which you choose, just that you do choose, and do the work. You learn and create with every stroke.

Remember this though, Forrest; to paint and paint well, you are going to have to get your hands dirty. Don't worry, it's just part of the process.

2006-09-06T00:15:00.000-05:00

On a small scrap of paper....
Remembering the owls
I've seen this summer.

2006-06-06T00:22:00.000-05:00

A Portrait of a Queen

"that memory or dream thing I do
that for me comes nearer reality than
my objective kind of work"
- Georgia O'Keeffe

(click on pencil drawing to see %100)

2006-05-16T09:13:00.000-05:00

2006-05-09T14:53:00.000-05:00

Monster Musing
(click for larger view)
Monsters have taught me to let go of that which I hold too dear. That which I try to save, only traps me into a well known web. To get beyond attachment is the only freedom. Monsters have taught me there are no choices, only alternatives. Alternatives all lead to the same place, the framework of experience is the only difference.
Monsters have taught me the power of fear. The pain of fear is greater than that which is feared. To run is to be hunted and haunted, to stand and fight is to be respected... to stand and not fight is self control.
Monsters have taught me to see the world with eyes that question everything. Monsters have taught me not to have expectations. Beliefs are not facts, just viewpoints, not truth. Truths are harder to achieve than beliefs. People believe what they want to believe. Monsters have taught me to look and look again, hopefully, unflinching.
What have you learned from monsters?

2006-05-01T01:36:00.000-05:00

UNDER THE SEA
Try to hold fast to the living thing which
destroys as it goes, but remains sweet.
~St. Mawr

2006-04-23T15:37:00.000-05:00

This is a detail of what
I'm working on today.
Click on the pic below
for a larger view if you
wish.........

Dawn

2006-04-18T01:26:00.000-05:00

SHELLS AND SPOTS

2006-04-18T01:03:00.000-05:00

SEED AND STONES

2006-04-10T19:19:00.000-05:00

JAZZ
Fingers at the speed of sound.

I'm bad.
I just wanted to
do my own "thang"
this week....

I'm bad.

2006-04-04T12:10:00.000-05:00

Hope springs eternal....
...gone but not forgotten,
Hellcat and Anonymous.

2006-03-26T13:55:00.000-06:00

There comes an age when one old monster is worth six
new fiends......

2006-03-20T05:43:00.000-06:00

From my sketchbook

I like to draw rocks....

...and play with them in the computer.

2006-02-14T13:20:00.000-06:00

Why have I lured you here?

It's SIMPLE...

I want to wish you a very.....

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!!!!

(You are awesome!)

2006-02-06T15:16:00.000-06:00

Three Little Chairs
Fairy chairs with pumpkins and real stuffed pillow cats.
The chairs are four and a half inches high, made from maple
and oak. They are trimed with tiny dried natural flowers.
The pillows are replicas of ones made in the 1800's. They
are hand stitched painted cotton with cotton batting stuffing.
The pumpkins are hand made and painted.
Click to see a bigger pic.

I was tagged by Oncle Johann's

Four Jobs I've had:
Fashion illustrator
Animator for video Company
On/air 3D graphics for TV Graphic designer

Four Movies I watch over and over:
Blade Runner
The Name of the Rose
Serenity
LOTR

Four Places I've lived:
Here
There
Back here again:)))

Four TV shows I love to watch:
The Discovery Channel.
I would have watched Firefly
but I didn't discover it until
it had already been cancelled.

Four Places I've been on vacation:
Every state in the west
except Alaska and Hawaii
New York state
Mexico
Florida

Four Favorite foods:
Lasagna
Breaded Shrimp
Chocolate...duh!!!
My daughter's chicken
and dumplings (not mine!))

Four Places I'd like to visit:
Italy
New Zealand
Ireland
Pyramids
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry to have been gone for
awhile... I LOVE my new job
at the newspaper, but I didn't
have time to blog for awhile.
Next week should be
better.
Thank you to everyone who
sent me emails! You are such
awesome people!!!

2006-01-11T15:00:00.000-06:00

Moon Rider

New Years Eve doesn't bring the end of the old year, there is this gap, this space that is January. It is a stumbling, leaves-of-days raking month. Earthy molds swallow time. Grey, smoking mists choke damp layers of memory. None of it is right and all of it is true.

Overwhelmed love for all, is this how God exists? Such love, there is no speaking, only another day manifested in the gift; this now, in a world.

I can't move forward, not yet. I'm not so much frozen as clogged, it frightens me more than falling.

2006-01-06T22:55:00.000-06:00

ROLLING CROSSROADS

A footprint in the sea.

What is said, can define what is not said.

What is known, forms the shell

of the unknown.

What is seen, can hold

the ghost of the past.

2006-01-04T15:53:00.000-06:00

Sugar and Spice... and everything nice,

that's what little girls are made of.

2005-12-23T20:29:00.000-06:00

Lantern, Lantern and Mistletoe

..............................................................................

I would like to share my Christmas Present with you!!

Reagan Emory Dahl, December 21, 2005

2005-12-18T11:36:00.000-06:00

What is memory
without memory?
Imagine.
Writing on the water
of time.

2005-12-11T19:09:00.000-06:00

Worm was so surprised,

that ants were trying to get his snacks!!

That only goes to show, Worm wasn't very bright.

2005-12-04T22:13:00.000-06:00

TO SEE A WORLD IN A GRAIN OF SAND

To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.
~William Blake

2005-11-28T20:04:00.000-06:00

A Small Cherry Tale...
There was a lady named Jean who lived deep in the Mojave desert. She wanted a cherry pie so she planted a little cherry tree. She watered it every day for years and years to keep it green and growing, but the tree never gave her any cherries. At last she grew angry with the tree and told it, "If you don't give me a cherry crop, I'm going to going to stop bringing you water!" The very next day as she was watering, she noticed the tree had grown one small, green cherry. Jean was very excited about her cherry crop and covered it carefully so the birds wouldn't find it. Every day she checked the cherry to see if it was ripe, and every day she saw the cherry had grown larger and more red. Jean thought, "If I wait a while longer it will be a great huge cherry and I will be able to make a great big cherry pie. Finally the cherry was almost perfectly ripe and quite large for a cherry. Jean said to herself, "Tomorrow morning at dawn, I shall pick this cherry and I will make a pie and eat it all myself".

That night, a terrible storm came thundering out of the western sky. Horrible, sizzling lightning strikes shattered boulders and booming thunder flattened cacti for miles around. A years worth of desert rain fell in a few minutes. Coyotes hid in their rocky dens, covering their ears with their tails, while poor rattlesnakes and Jackrabbits had to swim for their lives. Jean's house rocked back and forth in the wind but she didn't care, she was only worried about her cherry crop. As soon as the storm went grumbling away, Jean lit her lantern and went out to see what had happened. She was so shocked! Her tree was bare and the cherry was gone! Jean was very sad as she as she went to bed, all that work carrying water to her tree and now there was no hope for a pie.

When the earliest dawn came, someone woke Jean by tapping at her door. When she opened her door, she saw a tiny little elf standing on her doorstep with her whole cherry crop in his hands. Jean said, "Thank you very much." and tried to take the cherry from the elf. He chuckled and ran past her feet as quickly as a mouse. He ran into her kitchen, leaving his little wet footprints where ever he went. She ran after him and saw him scampering here and there, grabbing this and that, running up and down, mixing and patting and making a PIE!! It was the worlds smallest pie, but when it was baked, he shared it with Jean. They ate the pie as the new morning sun shone on a desert blooming with flowers. It was very small pie, but it was delicious!

~*Worlds Smallest Cherry Pie*~

1/8 tsp flour
1/64 tsp butter
Place flour and butter
in clean half walnut shell
cut with two toothpicks
until crumbly.
Add drop water and mix lightly
until a dough forms.
Roll into a pea sized ball
and wrap tightly with
one inch of plastic wrap.
Refrigerate one half hour.

1 tsp apple jelly
1 cherry cut into small pieces
3/64 tsp sugar
3 grains salt
tiny pinch of cinnamon
mix all ingredients

Roll out dough and carefully
line clean large thimble with it,
trim edges.
Fill with cherry mixture.
Decorate top with trimmings.
Bake 5 seconds with
a magic wand.
Serve warm.

2005-11-21T02:51:00.000-06:00

2005-11-14T02:06:00.000-06:00

Strength In Numbers
When it gets a little scary, it's good to have friends.

2005-11-08T19:58:00.000-06:00

Tom was eating a piece of cherry pie and drinking a cup of black coffee. He could hear the old couple in the booth behind him arguing about something they had seen falling from the sky when they were driving down the mountain road that lead into this town. Tom wasn't intentionally eavesdropping, it was just that the old man was hard of hearing and if the volume was any indication, his wife wasn't much better. Tom felt his jaw muscles clench as he set his cup back in it's saucer harder than he'd meant to, he felt so irritated. He thought it was probably because Sheryle was late picking him up and he hated feeling trapped and dependent on someone else. Besides, someone was always thinking they had seen something up in the mountains above town, strange lights, or strange animals. People just wanted to see something that relieved the boredom of their lives.

Old people were the worst, you would think at their age they would have learned better, but here this couple was, making something out of nothing. Maybe he was lucky after all. If Sheryle had shown up when she was supposed to, she'd probably be poking her nose in, getting the old folks to tell her all about it. God, Tom could just see it. They'd all be animated, their eyes suddenly bright as light bulbs on a Christmas tree just before they burned out. Sheryle would be waving her hands around and asking "deep" and "meaningful" questions, leading them on. She was always saying how she was a people person, but Tom believed he must not count as a person anymore. He felt he had been reduced to a pair of ears and a head that could nod or shake as needed. She talked, he listened, nothing more.

Tom suddenly felt queasy. Too much coffee he thought and reached for the roll of antacids he kept in his shirt pocket.

At least the old people were getting ready to leave. They stood by their table digging for change in pockets and purse, digging for keys, digging for cough drops. All this digging and doddering seemed to go on forever until they finally made their snail trek towards the diner's register. Even before they had managed to get halfway there, their booth was taken over by a batch of teenage kids bumping about. Tom could feel them telegraphing their energy through the red plastic seat, the random awkward bumps were snapping at his last nerve. The kids were just as loud as the old farts, but harder to understand.

Tom pulled the foil tab off one of those horrid pots of fake cream and dumped it into his coffee. He wished the waitress would come by and get the kids order. Maybe then he could snag her for more coffee, and if the kids got something to put in their mouths, perhaps they would settle down. Lord they were wound up, what was their drama all about he wondered. The kid's language was nearly incomprehensible but Tom understood that was the point of the secret code of the young. He also knew in time, the "dogs" and "yo's" of today would go the way of "blast " and "groovy" of the past. Cool now, embarrassing later, Dodo words.

"That's what I'm talking about." declared the bulky kid with a shaved head. Tom had already gotten a face full of the black spider tattooed on the back of it a couple of times as the kid had bounced in the seat. "Man that thing was sick, why'd I have to forget my phone tonight? Maybe we could have gotten a video clip or something, then they'd have to believe us! We could have shown Sheriff Jackson..." His voice trailed off.
"Yeah right," the soft blond girl sitting across from spider-head said with a snort, "The sheriff would think we were idiots. Look, it was probably some kid in a costume out pranking and you dudes were just lame enough to fall for it. Whoever it was, is probably laughing his ass off right now".

"Whatever, but I'm telling ya..."

Spider-head's personal thoughts on the subject were cut off in mid sentence by a shriek from the old woman by the register. Everyone in the diner turned as one great beast, to see what event had brought about this most interesting occurrence. She screamed again stunning everyone and they remained stunned as they witnessed the cause of her distress. Stunned and silent. You could hear every dime, nickle and penny of change drop slowly from her hand. She shrieked again and ran, ran like she had been hit by an electric cattle prod, ran like she was six years old again. Ran for the door with her old man right behind her, a couple of geriatric football players who knew the score.

Tom slowly set his coffee cup back down and rubbed his eyes. If this was what the kids were talking about, no wonder they were so excited. This might even cause ol' Sheryle to shut up for once.

Right here, in plain sight of Tom and everyone else, was a thing they all knew about from fiction. They'd all heard of it, everyone had seen pictures, seen it on TV, in cartoons and in the movies. Their kids drew crayon drawings of it and believed it could talk to you, but no-one could believe it would come shuffling right in here, into this diner where nothing of real interest ever happened.

Man if this was a kid in a costume, Tom thought, he was good. It would have to be a kid, because it was only half the size of a man. It was almost colorless, white, somewhat human shaped but with long skinny arms and the wrong number of fingers. It had an impossible nose, like no human would ever have without some serious surgery. It's mouth was just a slit. Tom couldn't tell for sure but it didn't look like it had any lips or ears, but then, he didn't expect any. It was the eyes that Tom couldn't stop staring at. Big and black, with no irises, no whites, just big black eyes imbedded into its pale face. The eyes didn't move, but the head did, it was turning, scanning the room, as the arms gently waved about. Tom thought it looked as it was trying to say something, as if it was in distress.

"Help" a word from the creature drifted into the silence. Tom thought he could hear it whisper "lost, hot". Tom could swear he heard it sob, "Sick, help me." He believed it said, "Lost.", again but the word was covered up by the sound of Joe coming out to the front with bags of ice from the big cooler in the back room. Tom could plainly hear the big stainless steel door snick shut, and then all hell broke loose.

A piece of the creature's body gave way and dropped to the floor. It wasn't a kid in a costume, it had no guts, and it was on the move. It was shuffling for the back room, arms waving in excitement as women screamed and men stood up in shock and alarm. Water glasses were dropped, plates were knocked to the floor, people were yelling as the sheriff came barreling through the diner door. He had his gun drawn and was hollering "halt!" when his feet slipped on the wet floor and he went down on his butt and slammed into the creature with full force. The creature blew apart, the gun went off and the bullet struck the jukebox at the end of the room. It was a lucky shot, the jukebox started playing the Christmas tune "Winter Wonderland" as it burst into flames.

Fifteen minutes later the babble had started dying down. Tom had given up on getting any more coffee. The fire was out, the broken glass had been cleared away, and Joe was mopping. The sheriff and everyone else agreed the best thing for them all to do, was pretend this had never happened, no one would believe them anyway.

That's for sure, Tom thought.

People were leaving, it didn't seem right to order food or continue eating after what they had seen. Everyone wanted to get away, to get back into their cars and trucks and get back into a world they were comfortable with. In time, most of them wouldn't believe they had seen what they had witnessed in this diner. The rest of them might get a shiver thinking about it the next time they saw a picture or movie, but what could they do? If they told their story, they would be laughed at, at best, or at worst, be accused of being nutcases.

Nutcase, who needs that, Tom thought to himself as he watched his wife walk into the nearly empty diner. She was all apologies and multiple excuses for being late to pick him up. Strangely, he felt a wave of affection for her, she worked so hard and Tom suddenly realized her life was pretty boring too.

He drank the last swallow of his grey coffee, stood up and put on his coat. He kissed her forehead and whispered, "That's okay baby, don't worry about it." He gave her an innocent smile and his ticket, "Can you get this for me while I leave the tip?"

She was bending over picking something off the floor under a counter stool when he walked up behind her. She stood up with a carrot and two lumps of coal in her hands, they were still wet. She showed them to Tom with a questioning look in her eyes.

"Here sugar, let me see those." Tom said, as he gently took the coal from her hands. He examined them carefully and then put them in his pockets, one lump on each side. He shrugged and shook his head. "Strange night I guess, but my God, you do look terrific! Your new haircut was worth the wait, my dear. Lovely, simply lovely." Sheryle giggled and placed the snowman's carrot nose on the counter.
It was still rocking gently as husband and wife walked out into the night.

© LDahl 2005

2005-11-05T18:12:00.000-06:00

NIGHT
Friday night set hard in my brain, it wasn't that I couldn't think of an idea, it was that I couldn't think at all. My brain had all the mobility of chewing gum forever parked under a table in an old diner. I had painted Thursday night and all I had produced was a tiny piece of crapolla. The dried paint on my pallet plate was more interesting. I was tired and feeling grey, but the new theme word was "night" and it was now time to work on it.

Brain dead, I dutifully started drawing, it was easy enough, I can draw crap in my sleep, I drew crap. It was perfectly acceptable crap. I hated it. I looked at what I had done, and found it boring, unimaginative and trite. The gum in my head hardened further. I went outside and looked at the midnight sky, Orion rising in the east. What would the night be without stars? What people looked at the stars and saw giant men with clubs, flying horses, bears, lions and bulls? Who were they, what lives had they lived, what had been important to them? What had been their dreams?

Daytime is busy with all the everyday work and worry of the world but night, night is a time for dreaming. The work of the day is over, night gives time for visions, for thinking of the past and of the future, of seeing things that aren't really there, yet. But what would the night be without the moon, the stars and the ancient constellations which make visible the dreams of the past?

Stamps, United States Postal Service®

The wonderful, talented people of I-Friday had done their job. I had spent much time in the past couple of weeks viewing their dreams, I had been surprised, delighted and many times, been in awe of what I had discovered. Now those visions were dissolving the gum in my head, I felt it go with a pop. The stars of Orion had ignited an inner fire, and I had an idea that wouldn't be trite. I knew what I wanted to do and it would be fun, and if I've learned anything as an artist, it is that when you are having fun, the work isn't trite or boring. It might not be well thought out or perfect in execution, but it has a life of it's own.

I spent the night working on my "Night". I offer you the constellations found in my pallet, my visions of what I see after the work is done.

The Nightplate......

See if you can find all five of these in the plate.

2005-10-29T00:17:00.000-05:00

BROKEN

Physical quantities like the speed of light, the attraction of electric charges and the strength of gravity are, for us, the unchanging foundation on which everything is built. But if we are the products of self-interpretation, this stability may simply reflect the delicacy of our own construction - our biochemistry would malfunction if physical constants varied, and we would cease to be. For the same reason, the rules must have held steady over a long period, so evolution could accumulate our many intricate, interlocking internal mechanisms.

2005-10-25T15:34:00.000-05:00

A Tale of Two Gardens

My garden is related to archeology. It is a raised garden, a layer above an older much better garden, my father's garden. His garden was a scaled down version of the farm that he loved and coaxed and sweated over, until life gave him no choice but to abandon it. When at last the tide of change swept on, it left my father with a space that was small by his standards but enormous by those of his new city neighbors, and he began to craft his garden. By the time he left this world of the living, his garden was famous. But like other fame, it disappeared in one season, evaporating with my father. It became another memory covered by grass.
This year I moved back to my home town to care for my mother. I thought it would be nice to have a couple of tomato plants, maybe a summer squash and a pumpkin vine. My "thought" rapidly turned into a "family and friends" project, out of my control. Everyone had ideas of what should be planted and the list grew and grew! And so did the garden space. Not just once did a dump truck arrive with topsoil but twice. Up, up went the garden, lifted by railroad ties brought by a friends' son. Two tomato plants turned into eighteen, they were surrounded by garlic and various pepper varieties. Summer squash was kept company with winter squash and giant pumpkin vines began reaching their great arms out into the world. It wasn't enough. Giant sunflowers, moon flowers and morning glories found a place with pole beans and new rose bushes. Green onions hung onto their patch of ground and all had to be fenced in to keep the roving bands of hungry bunnies at bay.
As the days turned violently hot under the Kansas sun, I spent early morning hours dragging the hose about to water and water and water. It was hot and I burned, but I had to admit it was fun having a daily excuse to play in the water. I fought bugs and weeds and burned more.
The first part of July the first tomato turned from green to red. I was so excited! Like pop-corn the tomatoes, peppers and squash exploded in the heat, I was suddenly inundated by the storm of veggies! I picked and picked, with joy. Family and friends returned and ate and ate and their praises still make me smile. I hope never to forget the look on my youngest son's face as he bit into the first slice of tomato. "Mom", he said, "These are the best tomatoes I've ever had in my life!." He ate three of them that day and for a couple of weeks kept coming back for more. I gave bags of veggies away and picked and picked more. We had salads, stews and sauces and mixed vegetables. I filled the counters and fridge with vegetables, and picked more and gave away more. But still they came. I was totally swamped, I couldn't use them up fast enough, and still.... there was more! Finally I found tomatoes kept better on the vines and I quit watering. With a little guilt, I retreated to the house to let the garden just be the garden, out there with the birds that came for the sunflower seeds and the squirrels, rabbits, possums and raccoons that came for what ever they wanted. By this time they were welcome to it!
It frosted on the pumpkins last night. The garden is done, black and wilted. I looked at it this morning and realized that I planted more than a couple of tomato plants, I had planted memories, memories like my father had planted and loved. I know as I put my garden to bed, I'll remember the pot-luck lunches we had to feed everyone that came to shovel and rake the huge piles of new dirt brought in, the tea drank under the pine tree after a morning of watering, and I'll remember all the smiles given to me as I handed over grocery store bags filled with home grown veggies. I'll remember the laughter and the colors and the storms and the mornings. It frosted, last night...

2005-10-22T17:01:00.000-05:00

...in a remote and forgotten land, lived a creature of such girth and ferocity that even the bravest of men would not attempt to defeat it.

All the best tales have remote lands and fearsome dragons!

2005-10-19T18:58:00.000-05:00

Flight Of The Old Monster
They say the handle of her broom was made from the taproot of an ancient oak. The oak still stands at the heart of the woods, growing greater and darker with every passing year. Darker, branching ever darker... and in the village, if you hear someone speaking of the "Old Monster" you know not whether they speak of the tree, or of the one that rides it...

2005-10-15T22:36:00.000-05:00

A cold moon was rising...
The days were getting shorter and soon someone was going to come and take away the pumpkins.

2005-10-11T19:39:00.000-05:00

I haven't ever felt the need to "blog" before, but today Ray Dillon got me interested in a site called Illustration Friday http://www.illustrationfriday.com/. I had been to the site before and thought it was fun to visit the artwork of others inspired by a word of the week. Ray convinced me to give it a try, so here is my first attempt at a blog. The word this week was "Lost" which is how I'm feeling now!